Matters
by halbarath
Summary: The encounter between Ritsuka and Soubi and the relationship they build until Seimei broke them apart changed them both. As Soubi reflects on his life, he may very well stumble upon a few facts he had not yet considered...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : I don't own Loveless and I don't make any money on this. It all belongs to Yun Kouga.

A/N: The quotation just below was the starting point for this story so I decided to include it.

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**Prelude**

"[...] putting the accent on all those ways people have of saying that they love you with their mouths but saying quite the opposite with their actions, and what this does to someone's sense of identity, trust or feelings toward intimacy and ability to form relationships."

Aimless blog

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**Introduction - Ritsuka's POV**

It was a long time before I finally understood what simultaneously drew and repelled me in Soubi. It is strange how the mind processes people and events, how time, distance and memory twist and turn everything until it is but a faint, pale distortion of the truth. I know better now but I acknowledged, oh so late, how alike we were, Soubi and I.

Both of us had been denied the first requirement to become a responsible and mentally sound person: parental love, benevolence and guidance.

Our substitute fatherly figures didn't love us. Seimei and Ritsu were obsessed with us. They used our youthful love and twisted it to the benefits of their own needs and perversion.

We were betrayed. Again and again by those we cared about, by those who should have protected us. Either they turned on us or turned their backs to us.

And we both became somewhat antisocial, choosing to isolate ourselves. Because in the end, if you're alone, there's less opportunity to be harmed. I read. He drew. I elected the library as refuge, he did the same with the studio.

We turned people down. No need to show any weakness. No need to pretend more than necessary. True, I had Osamu then Yuiko who persisted into befriending me, hell bent on it, their compassion overflowing. Soubi had Kio. The same kind of dreamer, same kind of peace-lover and compassionate mind that these amazing girls have always been. We were lucky to have them.

We spoke little. We evaluated every move, every decision before acting. Nothing was natural. Not the words, not the acts, not the smiles. Oh, the fake smiles. We were good at it. Fake smiles and unsmiling eyes. They betrayed us in the end. Soubi always did see through me. Pleading eyes he once told me. Unbeknownst to him, he sported the same. And I could see through his tough act as well as he did with mine.

We had girlish features. Ritsu told him so. Yayoi said as much about me when we first met. We invoked jealousy, attraction or desire in others. But never really love.

We had no right to live for ourselves. We were very skilled at self-denial because it was the only way to carry on. We gradually became strangers to ourselves, unable to connect, unable to evolve. Prisoners of our guardian's will and expectations.

We learnt not to expect kindness. We learnt most people were dishonest and selfish. We learnt that life isn't fair and everything was a struggle. We learnt abuse — in all its form with us combined. Physical violence, mental persecution, emotional cruelty, sexual harassment, even rape in Soubi's case.

We had nowhere to go and no safe place to run to. We were hopeless. Desperate.

Loveless.

And it frightened me to see myself mirrored in him. Would I grow into the same kind of adult? Would I turn into a mindless slave to others' will and demands? Would I become what I utterly despise?

Yet we survived. Both of us. It hadn't been a given. Did we manage out of spite? I don't know. But Soubi got out of Ritsu's hands then out of Seimei's and found his way to me. And despite his absence later on, our encounter changed us. Soubi — Soubi would forever be the adult who showed me genuine care and protection when I needed it most. Seimei — yes my brother had cared for me and protected me from mom but he had left me deliberately, knowing what mother would do. Soubi left me, but he had no other choice at the time. His frame of mind had evolved but he wasn't strong enough to defy his name. But he had changed. I did too. I started making friends and caring. I started to live for myself, live as I wished to, live to stay. When Soubi left, he gave me purpose. I made a definite decision. I would get him back. Which in turn, meant I would not allow "Ritsuka" to come back. I made a choice. I do not regret it.

Loveless. I would defy fate.

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A/N : I hope you like it. Leave me a review and let me know, will you? That would be great.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer : I don't own Loveless and I don't make any money on this. It all belongs to Yun Kouga.

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**Matters of the heart**

I learnt early that I didn't matter as such. My feelings were of no value and weren't to be taken into account. I might have been allowed to in the early years of my childhood since I could feel the pain of the mourning. Pain. So much pain. The only emotion that feels as raw today as it had been then. But showing feelings was forbidden.

When I was sad and crying, I was told tears didn't matter as they wouldn't bring my parents back.

When I felt scared of the dark and sought reassurance, he told me he didn't care then smashed the bulbs and pushed me away.

Loneliness wasn't to be taken into account as my Sacrifice would become my whole world.

When I was jealous of the other kids' friendships, I should have believed I was special.

Resentment to taunts was proof of limitation — and that wasn't acceptable.

Regret and disappointment could change no circumstances of mine and were to be discarded.

Bitterness and offence were inefficient and superfluous — I was told I had no need of them.

Rebellious feelings were beaten out of me while endurance of pain was whipped into me.

My childhood hadn't been happy. Feelings weren't encouraged. Positive ones were absent and I only retained the misery, the dread and the pain which I hid and buried deep in my heart where they wouldn't be belted out of me. Only anger was acceptable as long as I drew on it to craft better spells. I learnt quickly how to transform it. I buried all others where even I wouldn't be able to access them. Oddly, it isn't so difficult to deny one's feelings when your survival depends on it.

Pain.

Ritsu taught me a last lesson. One I wasn't to ever forget and deny. He had taught me well until then. I had adapted. I had closed my heart off, shut feelings out to concentrate on my training and survival. I had lived up to his impossible expectations. I had become the perfect soldier he had wished to craft. Everything in the hope he would finally accept and name me, the only positive feeling he hadn't been able to take from me. Hope. But when he gave me away to Seimei, I rediscovered betrayal. I had felt it once, when my parents had died and left me in his dubious care. And I learnt the very potent feeling of loathing.

Hatred.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : I don't own Loveless and I don't make any money on this. It all belongs to Yun Kouga.

A/N : Sorry for the wait, the week has been long...

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**Matters of the mind**

Seimei was nothing like Ritsu. He had asked for me specifically. Gratitude. I tasted it for some brief minutes. A tint of gloating too. Unfortunately, ten years with Ritsu had me very tuned to small disturbances and I perceived strange, troubling waves of wrongness. Dread was a familiar companion — I knew I was walking into another survival battle I had few chances to win. Then Seimei proceeded into naming me.

Fear, true fear, had always been the most prominent feeling when I think of Seimei. I wasn't the only recipient of his cruelty and sadistic streak but I most certainly was his favourite. I blame Ritsu for instilling in me the belief my Sacrifice should do as he pleases with myself despite my reluctance or alarm. I unknowingly gave Seimei ammunition and free reign to experiment on me about how far he could go. Or would go as he was apparently not done with me.

But it didn't matter as I was still drawn to him. Was it the power of our shared Name, despite its violent and foreboding beginning or was it born from my training? Maybe none, probably both. It is of no more consequence now as it was then. And Seimei could be so charming. He was handsome and charismatic. I wanted him to like me. I needed him to want me. Seimei's public face was a respectable one — a good son, a benevolent brother, a fair-player, a courteous student, a nice sociable classmate. And then, there was Beloved. Uncaring, violent, unforgiving, unapproachable, thriving on inflicted pain, on the thrill of the hunt, on the power over the fallen. I felt the rush too. The satisfaction dancing in the depths of his eyes, the sheer pleasure of his appreciation of my skills, the delight his approval invariably invoked in me. No matter what he had me do. No matter how revolting I could find it. No matter the guilt I felt afterwards. I snuffed the tendrils before they could form completely into a coherent feeling. I closed the lid on my principles and shifted my moral compass to please and align with my Sacrifice's. I would not disappoint him no matter what. I was his irrevocably, I would not mess things up. Ever.

And yet, our relation was so different from the other teams. Sure, we've never been defeated. And I must confess I'm quite proud of our record. But it was never enough. Notwithstanding all I did, all I invested into it, it was never enough. It will never be enough because Fighters don't matter to Seimei. A fighter is nothing more than a tool to be used and discarded. The realization had been painful. I had survived Ritsu because he had asserted my worth resided in my quality as a Fighter. That I would matter to my Sacrifice. But now I was Seimei's and it was nothing more than smoke. My hope was trampled as easily as my wishes or feelings. And what did Seimei leave me with? Blame. Guilt. Shame. And worthlessness. He was my God and he had dubbed me unworthy. A dark god of brutality and uninhibited ambition. And I was his lackey, dealing blows and death. I was the reason for the blood and gore, for the pain of others, for the dead piling up behind us. I was the one cleaning the mess and ultimately I was responsible for the blood tainting my hands as surely as my soul. I had been sold to the Devil and I was doing a very thorough job for him, while he stayed aloof and proud. Away from me and out of reach. In the end, I laid in bed, alone, not daring to debate the morality of it but unable to sleep because of it anyway.

And the unthinkable happened. He died.

He abandoned me.

All I had done.

The abasement.

The guilt.

All for naught.

I couldn't process it. The feelings were too strong. They came rushing back at me, all at once, and even all the training from Ritsu couldn't stem the tide. I shut down.

When I rebooted, an update was waiting for me. A Seimei 2.0 version. His little brother. He hadn't mattered until then. Like me. He would from now on. He would matter very, very much.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer : I don't own Loveless and I don't make any money on this. It all belongs to Yun Kouga.

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**Matters of the body**

I haven't really considered whatever happened to me since I had been a young frightened boy. And even then I didn't have that luxury. All my energy had been spent surviving, suppressing the truth as efficiently as my thoughts. But I remember. I could never erase the memories. And the scars never faded. Every time I catch sight of my back, I relive the cold touch of the whip, the roughness of the wall under my hands, the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. I hear the creaking of leather and see the thrice damned butterflies pined on the wall with a single thin, delicate pin piercing their frail bodies, crushing the life out of them and keeping them in display for their captor's sick enjoyment.

Pain is easy to understand and in turn easier to master than one would think. It is such a strong all-encompassing feeling, drowning all the rest under a wave of rolling delirium, enshrouding any thoughts, pushing everything else into the dark recesses of the mind, in this black pit that could devour your whole self. I learned quickly to hide there, in that farthest confine of my mind where Ritsu could never reach me. My body ached and thrummed with pain, blood oozing from the deep gashes on my back but my mind was mine and my conscience flew away through the window when he believed me attentive to the harsh treatment. But of course, even this small victory was ripped from me. Not even this mattered in the end because I am a Fighter and as such, my mind should always be alert, active and busy crafting words into Spells. When I grew up enough, Ritsu endeavoured to teach me how to sustain pain when Battling. By then, escaping reality wasn't an option anymore but my body had hardened and bore injury far better. I learned to push the pain into a small corner of my mind, to compartmentalize, to deny what bothered me. After a time, I went past the limit where I cared what happened to me. I had no way out, but that of a Battle team. I would turn my body into a weapon as my master wanted, I would chisel my mind into that of a Fighter even if that meant severing myself. I would become his lab rat no matter what. I would become perfect and get named.

How naive.

How naive to believe Ritsu couldn't hurt me more. How utterly stupid. The sly bastard took everything that mattered from me. Love for my parents disappeared like smoke after a few years of hearing him revile them. Relational abilities and potential friendships trampled at the Academy. Teacher pet indeed. If only they had known. Rebellious instinct whipped out for I would have harmed myself to get away from them all if I had been able. Happiness, contentment were distant dreams at the best of times. He hurt me repeatedly. Child abuse is a small word. But he hadn't subdued me entirely. A small fraction of myself was hiding away, shielded from the harshness, the spite, the deliberate cruelty. Protected until I turned 13. He took the last thing that was mine, the last untainted piece of me. My innocence. How could he, I never found out. I learned then it was misery to be handsome. I learned even looks could harm you. Nothing was safe in this world. And finally he crushed me. Finally he had tamed and dominated me. I didn't care anymore. I had nothing else to lose. My feelings, my body, my mind, my sexuality. He took it all.

Humiliation.

Shame.

Guilt.

Sickness.

Nothing mattered anymore. I had nothing of value anyway.

He had won. I didn't matter.

When Seimei took me as his Fighter, I had no real hope for better treatment. Ritsu had told me repeatedly after all that I would be at my Sacrifice's disposal. And Seimei never disappointed. He named me as painfully as possible — the tone was given, the scene was set. My Sacrifice was striking, the ethereal beauty of an untouchable god, dark and cold, elusive and aloof. And if I wasn't allowed to touch him, when my hands hurt him whenever they brushed him, when my concerned fingers were slapped away, when my caresses were not only unwelcomed but forbidden, he could do as he pleased. And what pleased Seimei the most was to hurt me. His blows were scarce but hard and unpredictable. His sarcasm and belittling comments oftentimes hurt more than his fists. The scars he caused always seemed to put him in a good mood. I didn't mind per se. I didn't know then I could have hoped for better, that it wasn't as commonplace a behaviour as I had been led to believe. In fact, the absence of contact was worse than kicks. And Seimei knew how to perfectly use such psychological brutality. He parched me for love and tenderness, for human contact and I didn't even realized it until very late. And yet. Yet I finally belonged. In all its gory truth, all its bloody eternality, I had been bonded to another being and I was thankful for it. The scars winding around my throat were not marks of cruelty or viciousness but rather the indissoluble proof of the link between my Master and myself, chaining us together through thick and thin. I didn't mind his attitude or the orders, I even relished his unwavering control. It was a long time before I reconsidered. Years before the scars of Beloved began to choke me as their strangling dance on my skin threatened to swallow me whole, to devour the very life, the essence of me. Years before His Call sounded wrong and ominous. Years before I acknowledged the acid burn of resentment and the churning anger knotting my insides. Years before I had to squash rebellious impulses to bash my Master's face. I was taller. I was stronger. I had the experience. I controlled the pain and suffering. I could have. And yet I didn't. Too many ingrained behaviours, too many immediate responses had been drilled into me. I simply wasn't able to. But I dreamt. I dreamt and waited. I observed and played along and dreamt, at the dead of night when everything was dark and silent and still. I dreamt of sweet words of encouragement and soft hands, of caring gestures and smiling eyes. I dreamt of the day I would emerge from the cicada in which I had been forcefully contained. I dreamt of Ritsuka.

Sometimes, I woke up yearning for the small Sacrifice at my side. At others the very same thought kept me awake at night, cold sweat dripping down my back as I felt the ghost hands of Ritsu on me. Have I abused the child? I could still taste his lips and feel his skin under my fingers as I brushed his cheek. Have I become what I utterly despise? Has Seimei deprived me so much of kindness that I would mistake care with abuse? Have I underestimated the taint Ritsu had left on me? Am I a monster too, for wanting the child so badly to be mine and for myself to be his? How wrong can such love be? Kio always seemed to disapprove. I could always rely on Kio as a moral compass. If he claims it is wrong, then most assuredly it is. And yet, nothing had ever felt as right before in my life than sticking to Ritsuka's side and taking care of him. Nursing him. Feeding him. Loving him. Should I discard the feeling as I had been taught to or should I entertain the hope? My Ritsuka. I had tricked him into kissing me. I had hold him forcefully to do so. Am I a monster too ?

But when I think of his small hand, timidly reaching mine, warming my hand and my soul both, I cannot imagine doing wrong. And yet I wonder. Have I gone too far?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer : I don't own Loveless and I don't make any money on this. It all belongs to Yun Kouga.

A/N : I had a hard time writing this chapter. Actually, it took me months so I really hope it turns ok.

A/N : The DarkCat, Promocat and Dlbn, thank you all for your reviews and continued reading. It matters; no pun intended. ^^

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**Matters of the soul**

I laid awake many nights looking at the ceiling of the room provided by Seimei's hostess, wondering about all that had befallen me.

After the absolute devastation following his death, I had met his brother. And in so doing, unearthed feelings I had believed gone, sentiments I had renounced. Emotions forbidden until then. And Ritsuka had opened this small, hidden trap door with his soft hands and hard determination. With his tears and supple lips. With his beseeching eyes and wild anger. Knowing the abuse he suffered from his mother and witnessing his unwavering loyalty to her, his fierce protection was something I could relate to; it took years before the feelings Ritsu evoked in me turned to hate.

Had we been a photography, Ritsuka would have been my negative. While I was brooding, he was optimistic. While I stayed alone, he made friends. Few, I would admit willingly but strong friendships. When I would withdraw, he would fight and rage. Never had he abandoned a fight despite his tears and hurt. Never did he submit to his fate peacefully. Little by little, he changed me. He never trained me and yet I would follow his code of conduct, his rules as if they were mine. Beside him, I was someone. To him, I mattered.

So when Seimei took me back, I was angry. Desperately, mind-bogglingly angry. I followed the motions as I've been made to but some newly discovered part of me rebelled against the situation, against Seimei, against the unfairness. No, it wasn't only unfair. It was unacceptable. I had always remained by Seimei's side without a complaint, without a word, without voicing any opinion. It was what Ritsu had taught me, hadn't he? And he had trained me well. A self-deprecating smirk marred my lips. Yes, he did and how much did I enjoyed it? And for whom? Seimei? It was ludicrous really. A child needed me, wanted me to stay at his side. A child I had come to adore, who would always comes first; and not only as my Sacrifice. The battle against Moonless was meaningless — there was no point at all except for Seimei to show me off as a prize, to lay his claim over me. The question begs, why would he _**need**_ to? Seimei had always loved to ruin everything from me, leaving me in absolute isolation with no-one to turn to and no worthwhile alternative.

But I had met Ritsuka.

Ritsuka who had lost the most and who still fought tooth and nail. Ritsuka who smiled and caressed. Ritsuka who huffed and puffed but always soothed and offered comfort. Seimei had made a grievous mistake when he had left me as his brother's protector. Since that day at the cemetery, I've fought to keep myself in check. I uncovered a long forgotten feeling; the will to disobey. The insubordination rising up in my throat choked me as I repressed it. The arguments died on the tip of my tongue as I bite them down. Rage simmered in my gut until my tightly clenched fists shook. Defiance burned hot and made my eyes water. Mutiny. It kept me awake at night and I laid unable to sleep, looking at the starry sky, wishing for Ritsuka with my whole being. Seimei's oath was insincere at best and worthless. All my life had been a pointless mummery in which I had no say, no place, no voice and no humanity. But I wasn't hollow anymore. I had met Ritsuka and he had filled the void with care and softness. With worry for me and tenderness. With sweet stolen kisses and sweeter promises. With a warm hand gliding into mine. With comfort and forgiveness. I may never be whole. I may never deserve this gentle child. But I won't grieve over losing him anymore.

I will never be Beloved; I know it now. I don't even wish it. I am a blank; I accept that. But I belong with Ritsuka; I know such. He is my redemption. I will recover from Ritsu and Seimei; I have been shown the way.

I saw the moonlight bathe the shiny floor of our hostess' opulent house as I walked down the corridor. Soon the handle was in my hand, turning slowly, without a single sound. The door didn't even creak open. It silently glided so I could slip in unnoticed. He laid there, exposed and vulnerable. I blinked.

"Seimei. Wake up."

His eyes unhurriedly opened, his gaze darkening in irritation when he recognized me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice deep and rough from sleep, his usual bite washing over me unheeded.

"I'm leaving."

"Yeah, sure. I don't care." He waved me off and turned his back to me intending to go back to sleep, clearly having not understood the implication.

"Seimei." I interrupted again. He sat up and glared daggers at me. As if I still had a care in the world what he could think about me. "I'm leaving. I am not coming back. Ever." I turned around and calmly walked away. He called after me. Tried to order me. But I wasn't Beloved.

Ritsuka had changed me. And as my feet took me to him again, I discovered something new.

Freedom.

Yes, this slip of a boy had helped me.

I have changed.

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A/N : So, how did the chapter turn out, in the end? I hope you enjoyed reading me and you had a good time with my little story. Which is actually not really a story and more a window into Soubi's mind. Anyway. See you around !


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